 The Mutual Broadcasting System in cooperation with Family Theatre Incorporated presents The Melancholy Clown starring Lionel Barrymore and Dean Stockwell. Your hostess, by transcription, Lisbeth Scott. More things are wrought by prayer than this world dreams of. Here is Lisbeth Scott. Wouldn't it be wonderful if there was a simple solution to every family problem? Day after day we hear families breaking up through separation and divorce. And it seems so tragic that men and women who once pledged their love until death do us part now cannot live together in peace and harmony. That so many children are torn between two homes and end up with no real home. Yes, what we need is a magic formula to make family problems disappear. Well, we of Family Theatre can offer no magic. But we do have a solution to family difficulties that is simple and effective. It is family prayer. Pray together each day as a family for the help you need. Bring God into your home. And discover for yourselves that the family that prays together stays together. Lisbeth Scott returns following this week's Family Theatre play. A true story taken from the life of one of the greatest men of the American Theatre. Our stars Lionel Barrymore and Dean Stockwell. It was a hot July night in Manhattan. From the windows of his penthouse in the Gladstone, a regal white haired man looked down on the bright lights of Broadway glittering like a handful of spilled diamonds. Lights that in the years gone by had proclaimed him to be one of the greatest figures of the theatrical world. With a slight smile, he turned toward the drawing room, then stopped short to stare at a young man seated gingerly on the edge of an ornate guilt chair. You, get up off that chair. Mr. Belasco. That's the chair the first empire cost me a thousand dollars. It's not meant to be sat on. I'm sorry, sir. No, my secretary says that you've been waiting to see me. Yes, sir. I'm O'Brien from the Manhattan Daily, and I... Oh, yes. You want an interview. The call was interviewed. Well, you see, sir, this being your birthday... But they... So it is. I was born more than 70 years ago today in San Francisco. Haven't been to San Francisco? Yes, sir. I keep thinking someday I'll go back. It'd be like being young again. Well, sit down, Mr. O'Brien. On something else this time. Yes, sir. I thought, sir, we might work out a story along some unusual line. My dear fellow, everything about me is unusual. Don't you know that? But everybody knows your career. David Belasco, the greatest showman since Barnum. Barnum was a circus man. I'm of the theater. I could write about the plays you produced and written. Girl of the Golden West, Madam Butterfly. Or I could write about your white hair with that unruly forelock. I suspect you keep that way just so you can brush it back when you take curtain calls and opening nights. You're a very perceptive young man. And I could say you date the era when Keystone met a cop, not a movie camera. And I could remind my readers that you discovered an unknown young actress named Gladys Smith and rechristened her merry picture. The most famous of them all. But what I really want to write about is none of those things. Well, then, why did you come to see me? Like I said for a story. But while I was waiting, sitting here on your $1,000 chair, I started looking at your antiques and at that curio cabinet. What do you want me to tell you? I want to know why you collect toy elephants. My boy, you've hit upon a story. A story I've never told anyone in all these years. But I'm going to tell you now. It all started with this little elephant. It's made of teak. Brought from China in a clipper ship. Its story is like the first act of a play. And I... I was the actor. I was only 11 years old when it began. The time was shortly after the war between the states. Place California. A gold town named Downeyville. Picture the scene. It's early evening. A winter rain is spattering down on a collection of gay red and gold wagons. Circuit wagons. And dominating the scene, promising all the magic wonders of the title from lion tamers and clowns, is a huge brown tent. The big top. Suddenly there's a slight disturbance inside the tent in the vicinity of a loose flap through which a wet, dirty little boy Well, bless my soul. What have we here? Gee, Cos, mister. Are you a real honest-to-goodness clown? Honest-to-goodness. Oh, gee. Crawl through the flap, didn't you? Yes, sir, but gee, you're not going to turn me in, are you, mister? I mean, I came all the way from... You ran away from home to join the circus, eh? Yes, sir. What's your name? David. David what? Just David. Hey, what's going on here, Walter? Oh, kid. Oh, this is David, Mr. Morgan. Mr. Morgan owns the circus. We don't give no free tickets for watering the animal, son. You beat it right back outside and buy away in just like everybody else. Oh, I don't think you understand, Mr. Morgan. David has come to be one of us. I'm going to join the circus. You're what? Look, kid, I'm a busy man. Are you beat it or I'll call the sheriff? Crawling under the tent right here, you might have stampeded the elephants. Oh, I don't think so. Elephants love small boys. Who else feeds them peanuts? What are you getting at? Only this morning I was saying to myself, looking in my mirror while I was making up. Walter, I says, wouldn't it be nice if some small boy should run away from home to join the circus today? I'd have just the job for him. To be honest, Mr. What in thunder could this dirty underfed kid do? He looks unhappy enough to be a clown. Are you crazy? The best clowns are the melancholy clowns. Look, David, how would you like to be a junior clown in my act? Oh, clown. Do you really mean it? Yes, I mean it. I've been looking for a little boy like you for a long time. If you hire this fool, kid Kingsley, you pay him out of your salary. All right, I'll pay him out of my salary. Come on, David, it's about showtime, and even clowns have to eat. And that's how David Bellasco, aged 11, joined the circus. Walter Kingsley was a kind man. He knew all the magic things the little boys dream of, and he made my dream come true. After we ate, he made a costume for me, baggy pants with a patch on them and a torn shirt and a red bandana tie on the end of a stick. A miniature of his own outfit. We were a success from the first appearance. Thanks, Mr. O'Brien. It had been Walter's idea, but Walter had to watch Morgan rake in the money, and he had to watch me get top billing. But Walter just smiled that sad smile of his that never reached his eyes and went on teaching me all he knew. Oh, I'm afraid we'll get wet going from the wagon to the big top, David, and I'll be careful. Don't smear your makeup. Yes, sir. Now, remember, when we get inside, just shuffle along like I do, and look up at the crowd and pick out somebody and stare at him and look very, very sad. Yes, sir. You feel all right, son? Sure. I just guess I'm cold. Hey, what's holding you up? We're ready. Well, look here, I don't think David had better go on, Morgan. He doesn't look good. He looks all right to me. I won't have any fool kid holding up my shell. I'm fine. Honest, Walter. All right. I just want to take care of you. That's all. Are you coming? Yes, yes, we're coming. David, you were great. You were a natural. Thanks, Walter. 16 towns, 16 one-night stands, and they call us back for encores. We're a success, David. Hey, something wrong? I feel kind of funny. You got wet. I should never have let you go on. My hair. Hurt somewhere, huh? You got it. You got a fever. I think I'm sick. David. Morgan! Somebody get a doctor quick! Same thing here we do in San Bernardino tomorrow. Poster's already up announcing your act. The kid has to go and get sick. Probably got a bellyache from too much candy. Well, the doctor says he has the fever and it's bad. Fever? Well, I'll be... Your act's dead as long as he's sick, and a sick kid ain't no good to me. You better turn him over to the sheriff or the church or somebody and pack your stuff. We're shoving off in half an hour. We're not going to desert the kid and that's final. Then you're fired and that's final. Sometimes now, Mr. O'Brien, when I look back on those days, I know that Walter Kingsley was the best friend I ever had. He gave up his job for me, found us some rooms in a cheap hotel, used his savings to pay for doctor and medicine. And when his money ran out, he put on his clown suit and his paint and smiled his sad smile and worked the streets and the saloons for pennies and food, anything he could get. And at night he slept on the floor beside my bed. But I never knew it. In fact, I didn't know anything until four weeks later when I waked up to see a familiar face bending over my bed. Oh, Father. Hello, son. Am I home? No, but I've come to take you home. How did you find me? Well, the conductor on the Santa Fe train remembered the little boy who paid his fare with pennies and then when I came across those circus posters advertising the boy clown David, well, I picked up the trail. I was a real clown, Father. Walter made me a suit just like his and made Mr. Morgan give me a job and he said we were a success. I know. Walter's off a good, Father. Where is he? In the next room. Is something wrong with Walter, Father? I'm afraid so, David. He took the fever, too. He's sick. Oh, I got to see him. Father, he's going to be all right, isn't he? I don't know. Here, I'll carry you in to see him. David. Gee, Walter, you're going to get well, aren't you? You've got to get well. Sit here beside me, David. I've got something to tell you. Sure. I'm glad your daddy found your son. I want you to go back home with him. Go to school and learn and read. But aren't we going back to the circus? The circus is no place for you, David. You have a great talent. You're meant for bigger things. Once I thought I was meant for bigger things, but... What things, Mr. Wald? I wanted to be an actor. A great actor. All my life, I wanted to go on the stage to play the great roles. And more than anything in the world, I... I wanted to play Hamlet. But instead, I became a clown. Just a melancholic clown. You didn't like the circus? No. David, I'm going to give you something. Something to remember me by. Me and the circus. And when you look at it, I want it to remind you that you've been given a great talent. And you owe it to God and the world to develop that talent. To share it. To create great art. Here. Here, my boy. It's... it's an elephant. A little black elephant. It's carved out of teak wood. It came from China on a... on a clipper ship a long, long time ago. I always liked it. Now I... I want you to have it. But won't you need it? Won't you miss it? No. No, son. I won't miss it anymore. Walter Kingsley died. I lost my best friend. But I never forgot him for what he said to me. This little teak wood elephant has reminded me for 60 years that once a man gave his life for me. Well, Mr. O'Brien, I never forgot my promise to Walter Kingsley. I went back home with my father to San Francisco. For 30 years I read Shakespeare in front of the mirror and recited Kipling in the backyard. Youngsters in the neighborhood used to come over to listen. I was determined to become an actor. And finally, what with running errands and doing odd jobs, I saved enough money to take elocution lessons from one of the actresses at Maguire's Opera House. Her name was Nellie Holbrook. She used to come over to our house on Thursdays to hear me read. That's good, David. But remember, we must use our lips like this. We enunciate each word. Yes, Miss Nellie. Now, I've got a surprise for you. What kind of surprise? Read this advertisement. Let's see. Announcing the presentation shortly of the great sensational military drama of the Lion of Paternia, with banjo solos in between the ads. Maguire's Opera House. Is the surprise a ticket? Oh, more than that. It's a role in the play. Me, a real part with makeup and lines and everything. And a costume. Oh, gosh, how did you ever manage, Miss Nellie? I'm playing the female lead, and I persuaded Mr. Maguire to let you read for the role of the baron's son, young Percy. The baron's son, royalty. First rehearsal tomorrow afternoon at three. I didn't sleep at all that night, Mr. O'Brien. I lay awake and stared at the ceiling and said my one line a thousand different ways. When we opened in the Lion of Paternia three weeks later, it was the most exciting evening of my life. Maguire Opera House was the most important theatre in town. It was magnificent with candlelit chandeliers and fashionably dressed fertilizers from Nobile. And up in the gallery in the cheap seats, my mother and father and their kids from the neighborhood all dressed in their Sunday best. I didn't come on till the second act. And I was getting pretty nervous by the time Tom Maguire announced the second curtain. I'm going up, curtain going up. You ready, Nellie? Yes, Tom. And the kid? Yes, sir. All right, curtain. We're on, David. Odd. Oh, my dear, Percy. What do you think has happened to His Majesty's ships? Perhaps, dear mother, the stress of the weather... Hang up! ...from the coast. David, what's the meaning of this? It's the kids' Benny and the rest from home. Well, what then thunders the meaning of this outrage? I'm sorry, Mr. McGuire. Sorry, do you realize you've ruined the entire production? That I'll have to refund every ticket in the house? But, Mr. Maguire, I couldn't help it. I didn't know Benny would yell at me. You miserable little pat your things and get out. You're fired. You can fire me, but someday I'll show you, someday I'll be the most important man in the American theater. Why, David Belasco, such utter conceit! Mr. Belasco, do you mean to tell me that really happened? Yes, Mr. O'Brien. At my first appearance on the San Francisco stage, I can truthfully say I brought down the house, as well as the wrath of the producer. But what a prediction to come true, the most important man in the American theater. I wasn't as brave as I sounded. I sneaked out of the stage door like a whit puppy. I vowed I'd never set foot in a theater again. Oh, I had some wild dreams that night. But in the midst of them, I put my hand in my pocket. And I touched the little teakwood elephant, and I remembered what I had promised. I was going to be a great actor. I was going to work hard. I was going to justify a man's faith in me. I went back to McGuire's opera house. I've come back. What do you want? I want to talk to you, Mr. McGuire. I've got to talk to you. Well, so long as it don't cost me nothing, talk. I want to say I'm sorry about tonight. But honest, I didn't know they were going to yell at me. And I'm sorry about the way I spoke to you, too. I guess I wasn't very respectful. Is that all you wanted to say, David? No, sir. What else? I want you to give me another chance. Why? Because I want to be an actor. I've got to be an actor. It's all I want ever. Someday I want to play Hamlet. Never happen. Take a skinny fellow to play Hamlet. Well, I'll grow up to be skinny. I'll do anything. Would you sweep up the stage, David, and run errands and copy parts? Yes, sir. And about to play Young Percy. Well, we're only running a week. I guess you can play the part. Oh, gosh. Thanks. Thanks a lot. But just one thing. No more little boys in the balcony. Yes, sir. I promise. And that's how I got my start in the San Francisco Theater, Mr. O'Brien. I worked for several years for McGuire. Then I acted and wrote and produced plays myself. And one day I came to New York. The rest is theatrical history. Well, Mr. Belasco, I... Wait. This program here on the floor. Well, it must have fallen out of the cabinet. Thomas McGuire presents Hamlet, Prince of Denmark, at the McGuire Opera House. Yes, yes, yes. I never was quite skinny enough, but I did play Hamlet in McGuire's opera house. But the program doesn't list your name. In fact, it says the part of Hamlet is played by Walter Kingsley. Yeah. I took that name for the opening night. But why? I was remembering a little boy who ran away to join the circus. An emellantly clown who wanted to be an actor. I like to think that, after all, Walter Kingsley did get to play Hamlet. This is Elizabeth Scott again. You know, when I first heard the story of David Belasco's early days, it struck me how easily he could have become a juvenile delinquent. His whole life might have been different had he not found a home under the big top of the circus. Yes, a circus tent can be a home. And a melancholy clown can be the best kind of father. If he realizes what a boy needs, someone to talk to, someone to make a hero of, someone to imitate and love. Every child has a right to expect these things in his own home. Every child has a right to find love there and understanding and the example of parents who believe in God and pray to him daily. We at Family Theatre urge you to begin today in your home the practice of daily family prayer for the family that prays together stays together. Thank you for being with us. God bless you. Our grateful thanks to Lionel Barrymore, Dean Stockwell and Elizabeth Scott for their appearances and to Beth Barnes for writing our play. Original music was scored and conducted by Max Tehr. This production of Family Theatre Incorporated was directed by David Young. Brief portions were transcribed. The supporting cast included Alan Reed, Herb Rollinson, Virginia Greg, Ken Christie, Joe Thompson, Charles Maxwell and Alan Reed Jr. This series of the Family Theatre broadcasts is made possible by the thousands of you who felt the need for this kind of program and by the mutual broadcasting system which has responded to this need. Be with us next week at the same time when Gene Cagney, Bula Bondi and Don McNeil will star on Family Theatre. Your announcer, Meryl Ross. This is the Mutual Broadcasting System.